The Mark
by 100YardDash
Summary: Ridley Mayhew, a teenage con artist and thief, keeps crossing paths with the one and only Jack Harmon all over New York and causes a little bit of chaos in the day-to-day lives of the New Directions. Part of the HarmonVerse! [COMPLETED]
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot of my story and my OCs. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan. The songs featured in this story belong to their respective writers/artists. The character of Jack Harmon belongs to the fabulous Soulless Warlock and the universe that our characters inhabit, the HarmonVerse, belongs to Soulless Warlock and his collaborators.**

**Set: About one month before New New York.**

NYADA was a great spot to pickpocket. The students that went there were painfully oblivious to their surroundings and, on tour days, it was all too easy to slip behind the groups of prospective students and parents and relieve them of their valuables. However, the pickings were slim today and Ridley knew that couldn't afford to go home without at least one profitable grab.

But then, as if the patron saint of thieves himself had sent this miracle her way, the front door of the school flung open and a boy with dark-blond hair confidently strutted out.

He was impeccably dressed, she had to admit. He was wearing a gorgeous and clearly tailored charcoal suit under his dark coat, a white dress shirt with some of the top buttons undone, and shiny black loafers. She'd seen clothes like those in the closets of the men her mother used to con. It meant one thing, the boy had to have some wealth. And rich people had a fantastic habit of rarely paying attention.

It was all too easy for Ridley to snake her way behind him as he walked by and, after bumping into him ever-so-slightly, snatched a wallet right from the pocket of his pants before she turned onto a secluded back alley. Satisfied that the mark was gone, she removed her newest catch from the pocket of her oversized leather jacket.

"You'd think he could afford to splurge on something a little nicer." She said aloud as she inspected the brown, faux-leather wallet. It looked like a knockoff you'd buy off the street in Chinatown. "But, it's what's inside that counts."

She opened the wallet carefully and, to her horror, found nothing inside. There were no credit cards, cash, or even an ID. Instead, it was filled to the brim with scraps of newspaper.

"That asshole!" Ridley growled. She couldn't believe he'd actually be able to fool her! It had been ages since she'd been properly outsmarted.

Frustrated, she tossed the wallet on the ground and turned around to get out of the alley. She'd try the subway again before she went back to The Robinsons'. But, after she'd turned around, she was surprised to see the rich boy smirking at her cockily.

"Sorry, kid, that was a decoy." He said. "The real wallet is taped to my thigh. The only thing anyone gets is a beating if they try and take it from me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Judging by the state of your shoes, you're way too rich to have ever thrown a punch. I bet you have a goon around the corner for that sort of thing."

He merely smiled back at her, "Believe what you want, Goth Gidget, I know the truth."

She raised an eyebrow at the boy in bemusement. Normally, she would've made a break for it by now. But she found him oddly intriguing, and he didn't seem to want to have her arrested just yet.

"Oh really, Fauntleroy, and what would that be?" She snarled.

His eyebrows rose somewhat at her remark. "In spite of my shoes, I'm quite dangerous. And I know that, judging by that ratty t-shirt of yours, you haven't bought a new article of clothing in the last three months, which probably goes to your excessive makeup budget. Seriously, how can you even see through all that eyeliner?"

She looked down at her faded, plum-colored Nirvana t-shirt. It was a Salvation Army grab from four months ago and, as he eerily managed to figure out, it was the newest article of clothing she owned. That was irritatingly creepy.

"How the hell did you—"

He smirked, "Oh, I wasn't finished. You're an, admittedly, talented pickpocket. But the sheer finesse you possess comes from ages of practice. So, I'm guessing you had a criminally-inclined parent or guardian that trained you from a young age?"

She stared at him stony-faced. How the hell did he know any of this?

"Still, no self-respecting parent would let you run around like some degenerate raccoon." He said as he gave her a smug little look. "So I'm guessing they were caught. And, judging by how beat up those $150 boots are, it happened a while ago and you're stuck in foster care until they're released."

She glared at him, "That's none of your damn business."

His smirk widened, "Hmm, touchy. It appears I was right, though that was a given."

She rolled her eyes, "Congratulations, you're perceptive. It's a trait that, lucky for me, is being bred out of the upper classes. Now, let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?"

He cocked an eyebrow, but made no move to stop her.

"You can either hand over your wallet now, or I can take it from you." Ridley said as she crossed her arms. "Your choice."

He laughed, "Cute, but you're not even armed. Run along, little ghoul, and go rob some helpless schmuck."

"Who says I'm not armed?" Ridley said with a glare. It took almost all of her willpower to resist the urge to gape at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Please, if you were you would've gone for my pants by now."

He had a point there. She never walked around armed if she could help it, mugging people wasn't her style.

Instead, acting rashly, she charged at him. She aimed low, so as to knock him off balance, but instead he managed to grab her and throw her off-center. This sent her tumbling straight into the asphalt on her butt.

"Not that this hasn't been fun." He said as he dusted himself off, "But I have places to be, people to see, petty criminals to knock down a few pegs."

She got up from the asphalt and glowered at him, "Screw you."

He smirked and started walking away, "Be a good little goth and I won't tell the cops about this."

She continued to glare at his backside until he disappeared onto the busy street.

When she was sure he was gone, she pulled out the piece of paper she'd swiped from his other pocket when she'd tackled him. It was a simple little business card with the words, Jack Harmon, printed on one side and the logo for HarmCo printed on the other.

She smirked to herself as she started walking towards Delancey Street. Jack had outmaneuvered her to the point of making her look stupid, and she fully intended to return the favor in kind.

"Let the games begin." She chuckled as she tucked the card into her pocket for safekeeping before she ran across the street.

**A/N: So, that was part one of my four-shot, The Mark. I'd love to hear what you guys think so please don't hesitate to leave critiques. Thank you once again to Soulless Warlock for letting me borrow Jack so Ridley could do her best to mess with him. You guys should really take a look at SW's stories and the HarmonVerse in general, it's all excellent. Until next time y'all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing but the plot of my story and my OCs. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan. The songs featured in this story belong to their respective writers/artists. The character of Jack Harmon belongs to the fantastic Soulless Warlock and the universe that our characters inhabit, the HarmonVerse, belongs to Soulless Warlock and his collaborators.**

For the next four days, Ridley left Jack Harmon alone. She went to school, stole from commuters who took the F Train, and, above all, avoided her foster parents like the plague. All the while, she waited for the perfect opportunity to start scoping out the strange boy that had managed to outsmart her.

She wasn't sure if Harmon knew that she'd swiped his business card. He was so hyper-vigilant that he may have even let her take it on purpose. But, if she waited and carefully planned her attack this time, he'd assume she'd given up and form a false sense of security.

She also wasn't sure why she was so adamant about getting back at Jack in the first place. It went against everything her mother had taught her. You don't cheat someone who you've a.) already failed to rob once and b.) is more than capable of giving the police your description. But, then again, Ridley Mayhew could never resist a challenge. Particularly not one as arrogant as Jack Harmon.

On the fifth day, she was walking through midtown when, by sheer chance, she spotted him leaving the HarmCo building. He looked just like he had on the day she tried to rob him—confidant and smartly dressed.

"Well, what do you know." She said to herself, happy that she was nowhere in his line of sight, "Must be a sign."

She followed Jack around the city for the rest of the afternoon and, she had to admit, he wasn't a boring guy to tail. The first place he'd stopped off at was a gym, the kind populated by boxers and the like, and he stayed there for well over an hour. The next was an immaculate apartment building uptown, which hadn't surprised her at all. The last stop, which had surprised her, was an off-Broadway theater where Jack had slipped in through a back-alley door.

Ridley had been to enough shows, and had seen her mother take advantage of enough producers, to know when a theater was prepping for a new show. Stage crew would smoke out front and trade opening night horror stories, actors and dancers would argue in the alley. It was like a soap opera, if you watched closely enough.

"So Harmon's in a play." Ridley said approvingly as she plopped into a bench across the street. "Good for him."

She dug into her backpack and pulled out a copy of _One Hundred Years of Solitude_ that she'd checked out from the library. She'd managed to get her homework done while he was at the gym, so Ridley figured that she might as well get a little reading in while she waited. She was probably going to be stuck there for a while.

After a few hours of reading about the trials of the Buendía family, Ridley saw Jack exit the theater and head towards Broadway. She packed up quickly and followed him.

Jack ended up meeting a boy in a wheelchair in front of a big theater that was staging a revival of Funny Girl. He waited around until a short, but attractive, girl with dark hair exited the theater with two happy-looking boys who were holding hands.

Even though Ridley was keeping her distance from them, she could still hear them all talking.

"Aren't you worried?" The shorter boy with obscenely-gelled hair asked.

Jack laughed, "Why should I be?"

"From the sound of things, most of the cast is out to get you." The taller boy said.

"Yeah, if there's one thing I've learned at NYADA, Broadway is cutthroat." The girl said.

Jack smiled thoughtfully for a second but then, of all things, he started to sing.

"_The trouble with schools is, they always try to teach the wrong lesson_." He sang as he handed his bag over to the tall boy. "_Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know_."

Ridley crept a little closer to them, and she saw that the girl was eyeing her suspiciously. Feigning disinterest, Ridley pretended to rummage through her bag.

"_They want you to become less callow, less shallow_." Jack said, smiling at his female friend. "_But I say, why invite stress in? Stop studying strife, and learn to live 'the unexamined life_.'"

Despite the sheer strangeness of the situation, Ridley couldn't help but smile. Wicked was one of her favorite shows and, on top of that, Harmon had a great voice.

"_Dancing through life_." He sang, "_Skimming the surface. Gliding where turf is smooth_."

He did a little slide across the pavement. Ridley was surprised that no one had bumped into him or cussed him out so far. He continued to dance a bit around the front of the theater, much to the amusement of his friends.

"_Life's more painless, for the brainless. Why think too hard? When it's so soothing. Dancing through life, no need to tough it_." Jack sang as he nudged the shorter boy for some reason. "_When you can sluff it off as I do. Nothing matters, but knowing nothing matters, it's just life, so keep dancing through_."

Then, like a shot, Harmon took off dancing towards Central Park. His friends followed suit, dancing behind him. The boy in the wheelchair paused to look at her suspiciously for a moment, but then he wheeled off after his friends.

"What the hell?" Ridley asked herself as she jogged to keep up with them. Who were these lunatics?

When she finally caught up to them, they were by the fountain in the middle of the park. As she stopped to catch her breath, she saw Jack leap onto one of the nearby benches.

"_Dancing through life, swaying and sweeping, and always keeping cool_." He sang. Ridley crept closer again, and this time the tall boy was the one who was eyeing her. Shit, she probably looked like such a conspicuous idiot right now.

"_Life is fraught-less, when you're thoughtless_." Jack sang, he seemed ironically oblivious to Ridley's presence at the park. "_Those who don't try, never look foolish_."

He then leapt off the bench, grabbed the girl's waist from behind, and swayed with her. Meanwhile, Ridley was all but next to them. This aroused the suspicion of the gelled-boy, who nudged his partner. Ridley pretended not to notice.

"_Dancing through life, mindless and careless. Make sure you're where less trouble is rife_." Jack sang, before he grabbed the girl's hand and twirled her a little. "_Woes are fleeting, blows are glancing. When you're dancing through life!_"

This time, Jack had jumped on the ledge of the fountain and, totally in character, he turned back to the girl and flashed her a debonair smile.

"So—what's the most swankified place in town?" He asked.

"That would be the Ozdust Ballroom." The girl said, not missing a beat.

"Sounds perfect!" He exclaimed. "_Let's go down to the Ozdust Ballroom. We'll meet there later tonight_."

Then, he turned to Ridley and grabbed her hand. He showed no signs of recognizing her, so played along and danced with him.

"_We can dance till it's light_." Jack sang excitedly.

It was at that moment she noticed that, strapped to his wrist, was a very nice watch. It wasn't some gaudy thing a gangster would wear in a movie. This one was a simple platinum watch with a metal band.

Thinking quickly, she gripped his hand tighter and undid the latch with the base of her pinky.

"_Find the prettiest girl_," He sang, flashing the brunette a smile, all the while Ridley had palmed his watch. "_Give her a whirl_."

It was at that moment, he twirled Ridley around. She spun expertly and pirouetted herself a few feet away from the group.

Ridley knew that she should make a break for it right now. She had the watch, and she didn't need to risk Harmon or his friends chasing after her once he'd realized his mistake. However, she couldn't help herself. The song was infectious and part of her wanted to mock Jack once it was finished.

So, she kept close and listened to the odd boy.

"_Right on down to the Ozdust Ballroom_." Jack sang before he turned around and gestured to his friends, "_Come on, follow me. You'll be happy to be there_."

Suddenly, Jack and his friends bounded away from the fountain and ran down the park towards another part of Manhattan. She cussed and followed them, despite her common sense telling her to go in the other direction.

"_Dancing through life_." Jack's friends sang, "_Down at the Ozdust_."

"_If only because dust is what we come to_." Jack sang, jumping in before they all sang together as a unit.

"_Nothing matters, but knowing nothing matters, it's just life_."

"_So keep dancing through—_" Jack sang, letting his voice trail off once they all ended up in the middle of the Upper West Side.

Suddenly, the taller boy nudged his partner, who turned to the girl and looked at her nervously.

"Miss Galinda." He said in character. "I hope you'll save at least one dance for me. I'll be right there. Waiting. All night."

She smiled at him between clenched teeth. She had Galinda down pat.

"Oh, that's so kind." She said, "But do you know what would be even kinder?"

"_See that tragically beautiful girl, the one in the chair_." She sang, gesturing to their irritated, four-eyed friend. "_It seems so unfair we should go on a spree, and __not she. Gee! I know someone would be my hero, if that someone were to go invite __her_."

Ridley was stunned, this girl had a knockout voice. It was absolutely incredible.

As she stupidly gaped at them, the gelled boy smiled at the girl.

"Well, maybe—I could invite her!" He said.

The girl looked almost moved. "Oh, Bick, really? You would do that for me?"

"I would do anything for you, Miss Galinda." He said before he and the tall boy ran after the boy in the wheelchair, who was wheeling away from the group in annoyance.

"So—" She said, turning back to Jack.

"So, I'll be picking you up around eight?" He supplied.

"After all," She said with a smile. "_Now that we've met one another_—"

"_It's clear we deserve each other_." She and Jack sang together

"You're perfect." She said.

"You're perfect." Jack replied.

"_So_ _we're perfect together_." They sang, holding hands as they went after their friends. "_Born to be forever. Dancing through life_!"

"_Dancing through life_." His friends cut in again, "_Down at the Ozdust_."

"_If only because dust is what we come to_!" Jack sang triumphantly with his friends as Ridley trailed close behind.

"_And the strange thing, your life could end up changing_." Ridley sang along quietly as she tried to sneak by them. "_While you're dancing, through_!"

However, before she could get in front of them, Jack turned around and gave her a smug little look.

"And what have we learned?" He said, all of his friends were staring at her now.

She was taken aback by this, which was not a feeling she was used to.

"Excuse me?" She muttered. Shit, she should've made a break for it when she had the chance. Why had she been so damn stupid?

He rolled his eyes. "What have you learned from this experience Gidget?"

His friends looked over at him questioningly and the taller boy tried to get his attention, but he ignored all of them.

"That you don't pay nearly as much attention as you should when you're performing?" She offered, suppressing a smile. Even if this did go south, at least she could get the satisfaction of wiping the smirk off of Harmon's face once he'd realized he'd been robbed.

"No." He said, his tone was the one you'd reserve for a dimwitted child. "The lesson is that I am not an idiot. No matter how hard you try, you can't outwit me."

"Oh really?" She said smugly, "Then how come you're down one less valuable?"

He smirked, "Oh, you mean my watch? You might want to take a closer look at it."

She pulled the watch out of her pocket and turned it over. The once-pristine face was now completely black, but there was nothing on the outside of the glass.

"The hell?" She exclaimed.

"There's a pressurized dye pack inside." He explained. "Unless you hold the safety when you take it off, it'll burst."

"What a waste of a nice watch." She said, tossing it back to him. It was useless to her now.

Jack smirked once he caught it. "I never said it couldn't be cleaned."

Shit! That bastard had outsmarted her again! This whole thing was starting to get incredibly infuriating.

"I'm sorry." The pretty girl said suddenly, "But what the hell is going on here?"

"Nothing that you need to worry about." Ridley said quickly before she nodded at Jack. She needed to remove herself from the situation as fast as humanly possible. "See you around jackass."

With that, Ridley ran down the street and ducked down an alley to make her getaway. She'd been stupidly careless and had gotten in way over her head. Her mother would be appalled at how much she'd been acting like an amateur. But still, Harmon's reaction was eating at her. She couldn't believe he'd managed to fool her a second time and make her feel like a complete moron.

In the grand scheme of things, that probably didn't matter. Hell, he was probably going to call the cops on her this time. But, even so, the only thing Ridley could think about was trying to get back at him one last time.

**A/N: So, if y'all haven't surmised, Ridley is very, very**** stubborn. She's not going to let Jack embarrass her without a fight. Any way, thanks again to Soulless Warlock for letting me borrow Jack and for all of your help ironing out Ridley's character, making sure I was true to Jack's voice, etc. The next chapter is going to be a doozy guys, so stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but the plot of my story and my OCs. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan. The character of Jack Harmon belongs to the always awesome Soulless Warlock and the universe that our characters inhabit, the HarmonVerse, belongs to Soulless Warlock and his collaborators. **

It had been several days since the watch incident, and Ridley had finally started to relax again. It appeared that, for some reason, Harmon wasn't calling the cops on her this time. She knew this was probably a sign that she should give up, but she didn't want to. All she wanted was one last chance to try to show him up.

She couldn't help but find herself hanging outside the HarmCo building, reading _This Side of Paradise_, as she waited for Jack to make an appearance.

When she finally saw him, he was walking out of the building and having what appeared to be a serious conversation.

"Come on." He said as he walked past, "One night away from that preppy hobbit you're marrying won't kill you."

As Ridley gathered her things, she couldn't help but wonder if the person on the other end was one of the people that had been singing with Jack. Pushing the thought of side, she weaved through the midtown throng and finally managed to get a few paces behind Jack.

"Just come out with me on Friday night." He said, "You might even have a good time."

Ridley didn't hear what the other person had said, but whatever it was had made Jack chuckle.

"If memory serves, you were the one who got us kicked out of that pub in the East

Village." Jack said. "Which reminds me, you still owe me thirty bucks for those bottles you kicked off the bar."

Ridley snickered as she tailed him; that must have been an interesting night.

"So, how about it?" Jack asked, "We can go to that place in Hell's Kitchen you were talking about. What was it called?"

He paused, and Ridley took that moment to inch a little closer behind him.

"Right, Wonderland." He said. "We'll go there. Talk to you later."

Harmon hung up his phone and Ridley kept tailing him until he turned a corner. This time, she didn't follow him. Instead, she hailed a cab and headed for Hell's Kitchen.

It didn't take her too long to find Wonderland; it was a snazzy-looking club on West 52nd Street with a curvy red neon sign tacked on the front. It had an alley (with no visible cameras) on the right side that spilled out onto the street behind the club.

There was also a door on the alley-side of the club which, after she cracked it open, led to a back hallway where the bathrooms were located. She smiled to herself as she shut the door, this plan she was concocting could actually work.

That Friday night, Ridley decided she was going to have fun with this little heist.

She put on a curly auburn wig, a simple midnight blue dress, and her one nice pair of black leather boots. She wore the barest makeup and combed through the shoebox under her bed for money and an ID. It took her a few moments, but she finally found the ID that matched her hair: Jessica Hartley.

When Ridley appeared at the club, it was almost 8:30. As she walked in, she spotted Jack and the boy from before, the one with perfectly-coiffed hair, sitting at the bar splitting a bottle of what looked like really nice rum.

Ridley shimmied into a spot near them and flagged the bartender to serve her a vodka seven. If she hadn't been playing a part and on a job, she would've ordered something stronger. She then turned to look at her target, and saw that he was making a bit of a fuss.

"Wait, the rum's gone." He said, eyeing the bottle in annoyance. "Why's the rum gone?"

Ridley snickered, despite herself.

"It's because you drink like a fish." His friend said.

"I do indeed." Jack said with a smile before he moved to flag down the bartender, "Barkeep! Another bottle for me and my elfish friend!"

The bartender eyed Jack warily before he bought out another bottle of very nice rum from under the counter.

Jack poured each of them a glass and handed one to his friend.

"To a night out!" The other boy cheered before the clinked their glasses.

"See, Kurt—" Jack said before taking a large swig of rum. "I told you a night away from the prepperchaun would do you good."

Kurt nodded a little, "Yeah, I think I needed a little time away from him."

"You need more than a little, he's around you constantly." Jack replied, "Like a parasite."

Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'd hardly call him a parasite. He's just—a little clingy."

Jack scoffed, "Please, Golem could take lessons from him."

"Can you not reference Lord of the Rings when you talk about him?" Kurt huffed.

"Sure."

"Thank you."

Jack paused for a second before he started nuzzling his friend, "But, Dobby loves Harry Potter."

"That, too." Kurt said in annoyance.

"You're no fun." Jack huffed. "Then again, you've never been fun."

Kurt chuckled, "Then why do you spend so much time with me?"

"Because you and Rachel are sort of a package deal and, sometimes, I like talking to guys." Jack said before he smiled a little, "Or women who look like them."

Kurt scowled, "Asshole!"

"Bottom bitch!" Jack shot back.

The two laughed and Jack stood up from his stool.

"Now, if you'll excuse, I've got to—" He paused thoughtfully before yelling, "Use the bathroom!"

The entire population of the bar, including Ridley, stared at him in surprise.

Jack smirked, "Don't want to be confused with Larry Craig."

He then walked off towards the bathroom. Ridley counted to sixty and then she followed him.

She went down the green hallway and collected herself for a second before she stumbled into the bathroom.

"Oh my god." She gushed, pretending to be inebriated, "I am so sorry."

She looked at Jack, who was washing his hands in the sink. Strangely, his pants were still down. Though, just as he'd said the day they met, his wallet really was taped to his thigh.

Jack turned around and looked at her with a raised eyebrow before he smiled lecherously.

"Don't be sorry." He slurred, "The more the merrier, I always say."

She smiled sweetly at him and seductively touched his thigh, "Well, that's quite nice of you.

"Bad touch! Bad touch!" He yelled, before he turned to get a good look at her. "Oh, right. Mind if check for the Northwest Baby Cave? I mean, anyone can grope or give blow."

She glared at him. "I'm a girl, jackass!"

Jack rolled his eyes, "I came in with a man pretty enough to be a girl, so forgive me for not believing you.

"Sweetheart." She said kindly, "Men usually don't have large mounds of flesh attached to their chests."

He looked down at her cleavage, and Ridley took the opportunity to pull the wallet off his leg. Jack jerked away instinctively, and Ridley took the opportunity to slip out of the bathroom and make a break for the alley.

Once she was safely halfway down the alley, Ridley burst out laughing. She'd finally bamboozled him! Ridley paused and pulled the wallet from the safety of her coat pocket.

This one was much nicer than the decoy. Handmade leather, probably Italian. The wallet alone would be worth a small chunk of change. She opened it up and felt around inside but, to her immense irritation, it was empty.

"God dammit!" She exclaimed, shoving the wallet back into her pocket.

"Someone's in a foul mood." An all-too familiar voice said.

Ridley turned around to see Jack standing behind her, smirking triumphantly. He didn't look nearly as drunk as he had before. He must've been acting, just like she had.

"I really, _really _hate you sometimes." She said, unaware of why that exact string of words had tumbled out of her mouth.

His smirk neither widened nor shrank.

"I have to admit _Ripley_." He said, "You disguise was rather convincing. It took me a few moments to realize it was you. The lack of eye makeup was a nice touch. I thought that crap was tattooed on your eyes."

"It's _Ridley_." She said instinctively before she caught her mistake. "Crap, how did you know my name?"

"I used my father's drone to follow you around." He said smugly, "I know all about you, little ghoul."

"Where the hell do you get these things?!" Kurt exclaimed loudly, suddenly appearing next to Jack.

Jack turned to look at his friend, "My dad basically uses it as a nanny cam so I stay out of trouble."

Kurt then turned to her, "Who's this?"

Jack smiled, "This is Ridley Mayhew, a girl who's been a thorn in my side for the last two weeks or so."

Kurt scrutinized her face under the street lamps.

"Wait, aren't you the girl from the park?" He asked.

Ridley didn't answer, she just stared murderously at Jack. She knew he was going to explain how he'd fooled her in a moment.

"Anyway, as I was saying." Jack said after a beat, "You made a valiant effort, but I knew you were following me the whole time. So, I switched out my wallet for an identical one."

"Wait, then where's your wallet?" Kurt asked, slurring his words a little. He was obviously far more intoxicated than Jack.

Jack smiled and pulled out of Kurt's back pocket. That was when she realized what he'd done. When he'd nuzzled against Kurt earlier, he'd slipped it into his pocket. It was really quite sneaky.

"How the hell aren't you drunk off your ass?" She wondered, not totally realizing that she'd spoken aloud.

"No one's quite sure." Kurt commented, "He's supernaturally immune to alcohol."

Jack smiled at that. Ridley just stared at him in surprise.

Jack turned to her again. "Any way, I'm impressed. You almost got me, Cindy Lou. Now, run along and don't try to play a game I invented."

"You're a real bastard Harmon." She spat, turning away from him. By now, she knew he wouldn't report her. She suspected that he enjoyed their little run-ins.

"You're not the first one to tell me that." He called back, "Fair thee well, little thief."

"Screw you." She replied, kicking a garbage can before she made her way out of the alleyway. She was so done with that asshole, let him enjoy his petty victories. At least she had his empty wallet to hawk.

**A/N: Ridley's starting to see that she's way in over her head now. So the last chapter is going to be a little different. Once again, thank you to Soulless Warlock. I had so much trouble getting this chapter to flow right and he was a huge help to me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: As you know, I own nothing but the plot of my story and my OCs. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy, Brad Falchuk, and Ian Brennan. The songs featured in this story belong to their respective writers/artists. The character of Jack Harmon belongs to the fantastic Soulless Warlock and the universe that our characters inhabit, the HarmonVerse, belongs to Soulless Warlock and his collaborators.**

Ridley tried to avoid hanging around her foster home for an extended period of time. It wasn't because the neighborhood was bad. All things considered, the Robinsons' house in Queens was actually pretty nice. And it wasn't even because she was mistreated by her foster parents or by the three other kids that were living there. In fact, they were one of the kinder families she'd been placed with.

The problem was that she just didn't feel at home there, and her foster family definitely didn't know how to handle her. During the first few weeks of her stay, they'd all tried so hard to get to know her but she'd shut them down. It was easier that way, she'd be out of there before she knew it. Since then, they'd stopped bothering with her.

They still tried to be nice, but you could tell they were all a little wary of her. Even her roommate, a fifteen-year-old named Gina, was pretty guarded around her. Ridley was all but convinced that Gina was just waiting for Ridley to steal from her so she could report her.

Ridley was used to not feeling totally welcome in her foster homes, which was part of the reason of why she'd started busking in the first place. Not only was it a good distraction, one which also earned her a nice chunk of change, but it gave her the opportunity to practice performing without pissing off a roommate or a guardian. Since she'd started, she'd made a habit of busking at least three or four times a week.

Her main spot was usually a small but prominent corner of Washington Square Park. She liked to play there in the afternoons when the tourists poured in. They were usually fairly generous to blondes that could play guitar.

It had been about a week after the bar fiasco and the weather had been particularly agreeable. So, mid-Saturday morning, Ridley took the F Train and went to the park. There weren't a lot of tourists once she got there, so she took the opportunity to tune her guitar, do her vocal exercises, and practice some chords.

When she was finally ready, she played a little of "I Shot The Sheriff" for the meandering park goers. Unfortunately, the song only attracted a few onlookers and a small handful of spare coins. Once she'd finished, she sighed in disappointment. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Then, suddenly, a large stack of folded bills fell into her case.

"Wow, thanks." She said before she looked up. She scowled when she saw who it was.

There, smirking at her in satisfaction, was none other than Jack Harmon.

"You're doing something legal today." He said, as if he was surprised by this.

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Go away Harmon, I'm not in the mood to be embarrassed."

He held up his hands good-naturedly, "Relax Elvira, I didn't seek you out on purpose. We just so happen to enjoy the same corners of the city."

She cocked her head at him, "Then what do you want?"

"I'm doing my good deed of the day." He said, gesturing to the case.

She shrugged, "Since you paid, I'm obligated to ask if you have any requests."

He smirked, "Is that some sort of obscure busker law that I wasn't aware of?"

She glared at him, "Do you have a request or not?"

He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment, "Surprise me. But I'm warning you, if you play one Nirvana song I will demand a full refund."

She thought about that for a moment, and then played a sad but pretty little riff on her guitar.

"_I'm waking up, to ash and dust. I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust. I'm breathing in the chemicals_."

She paused and took a breath. Harmon's expression was totally unreadable.

"_Oh oh. I'm breaking in, I'm shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus. This is it, the apocalypse. Whoa oh. I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones. Enough to make my systems blow. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Whoa oh, whoa oh I'm radioactive, radioactive. Whoa oh, whoa oh I'm radioactive, radioactive_."

A little crowd was starting to build around them, but Ridley didn't care. She was getting lost in the song.

"_I raise my flag, I darn my clothes. It's revolution, I suppose. We're painted red to fit right in, whoa oh. I'm breaking in, I'm shaping up, then checking out on the prison bus. This is it, the apocalypse. Whoa oh. I'm waking up, I feel it in my bones. Enough to make my systems blow. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Whoa oh, whoa oh I'm radioactive, radioactive. Whoa oh, whoa oh I'm radioactive, radioactive_."

The crowd had grown bigger now but, by this time, Ridley was so far gone that she'd forgotten that she was even in the park at all.

"_All systems go, the sun hasn't died. Deep in my bones, straight from inside. I'm waking up. I feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems blow. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Welcome to the new age, to the new age. Whoa oh, whoa oh I'm radioactive, radioactive. Whoa oh, whoa oh I'm radioactive, radioactive_."

She played the last note on her guitar and then, suddenly, people were applauding around her. Startled, she looked up and remembered what she'd been doing.

Some members of the crowd dropped some money in her case and then dispersed. For the first time in a while, Ridley was pleased. She'd must've done a decent job.

"Very nice Gidget." Harmon said, "Not what I would've chosen, but it was passible."

Ridley didn't even bother to scowl at him, she was too high on endorphins.

"Anything else?" She asked, smiling as she bent down to count her earnings.

"I never would've guessed that your mother was the Park Avenue Vixen."

Well, that killed her good mood.

She looked up from the case with narrowed eyes, she hated that nickname.

"How did you know?"

Jack shrugged, "It wasn't that hard. I swiped your file from the New York Child Protective Services office. Your mom's name rang a bell, so I googled it. My dad was a fan of the story and followed the trial."

"I'm touched." She deadpanned, "I'll have her sign an autograph for him."

"Ridley—" Jack started to say before he paused. He ran a hand through his hair in what appeared to be frustration.

"What?" She snapped, too annoyed to even comment that he'd hadn't used one of his nicknames this time.

"What I'm trying to say is, I want to call a truce." He said, his expression was completely serious. "That stack is all the money I had on me the first time we met. Consider it a peace offering."

She stared at him in surprise, "Why? You could just as easily turn me into the police if you wanted to get me off your back."

He chuckled, "Where's the fun in that? Our run-ins have been oddly invigorating. However, I'd like the chance to talk to you without the expectation that you'll try to rob me."

She smirked, "I could still rob you."

His face turned serious again. "Then I will turn you in. You get one shot here, I won't lose sleep either way."

They could be allies, or she could deal with the juvenile court system. She'd had worse offers before. Besides, she liked hanging around Jack. He kept things interesting.

"Okay, deal." She said holding out her hand warily, "We have an official truce."

As he shook her hand, Ridley ignored her ingrained impulse to make a grab for his watch again. He was testing her control, not her sneakiness. She found this arrangement oddly satisfying, even if she didn't exactly trust him.

"So, now what?" She asked as she bent down to pack up her guitar.

"How about an actual introduction?" He offered. "I'm Jack Harmon, future Broadway supernova."

She paused for a second and then smiled at him, "I'm Ridley Mayhew, future rock star and songwriter extraordinaire."

He chuckled, "So how about it, Ridley Mayhew, want to grab a cup of coffee and talk as allies do?"

She smirked and raced ahead of him with her guitar in hand, "Only if you're buying Captain Jack!"

**A/N: So that's all folks! That's how Ridley and Jack became a team. I've been having so much writing in this universe and collaborating with Soulless Warlock (I've said it before, but thank you so much for everything!) that I fully intend to write the rest of Ridley's story. Oh, if anyone's curious, the arrangement of Radioactive that Ridley sings is Madilyn Bailey's version (which is incredible and I recommend you look up on YouTube right now).**


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